My darling daughter
by TwistedChildreness
Summary: This story is about a young girl Helena determined to find out if her biological father truly was the Vicomte Raoul de Chagny....or if it was as her suspicious expected.....the....opera...ghost....?
1. Chapter 1

The dark moon rose, mist surrounded the ground.

Only god knew if Helena would ever make it out alive.

The hoof-beats where thumping at a rapid pass behind her, along with her heart.

"Please sir!" she yelled over her shoulder. "What do you want of me?"

The person on the horse only laughed.

Helena let her shawl fall into one of the muddy puddles that were strewn across the dirt road; it was too much worry trying to keep it above ground level.

There was a howling in the distance. Helena looked up at the dark midnight sky in relief.

"Bane." She whispered. "Here boy!" she yelled at the top of her lungs.

A softer thumping approached her; the sounds maker, a massive white wolf.

"Bane." Helena said leaping on the back of the wolf's large back. "I knew you would come, I knew it." The wolf raced through the tangle of trees, cracking stiff logs, and brittle twigs as he went.

Helena rest her head on his shoulder blade, the movement of his shoulders as he ran entranced her into a deep sleep. Nothing woke her…not even the bits of wood and stone that would often knick her as he kicked them up from the ground.

Helena dreamed of her father…

"Sweet Helena…" he said to her.

"Papa!" Helena threw her arms about his neck.

"My darling daughter." He said hugging her tightly.

"I missed you so." She said snuggling her head in his warm over coat.

"I missed you too." The smell of icy snow, and burning wood from the fire, was forever implanted in her memories…as was her father, who always said how much she looked like her mother…but no one ever said how much she looked like her father.

After this dream she was thrown back into the cold night air, and into the real world, where confusion met an icy wind…

"is it true?" she whispered softly into the air.


	2. Chapter 2

Helena leapt from Bane's back, and stroked his head.

"Good boy." She whispered.

Bane licked her hand.

Helena led her wolf, down the long pathway to her home, a large house on many acres of lush green land. Though the morning was on the rise the sky seemed to circle darkly above, as if nothing could make the sun come out.

She ran towards the entrance, Bane ran to the bit of forest that was just off the garden; where he usually stayed, to keep out of her nanny's view.

Helena could feel her heart pounding again.

"Helena!" her nanny, Agnes, ran towards her.

"Agnes." Helena hugged her tightly.

"Where have you been child?" Agnes wrapped a shawl around Helena's shaking shoulders.

"I was…rushing home, and someone met me in the ally…I thought I was going to die."

Agnes' face was red. "Oh, my dear, are you alright?" Helena nodded.

"Bane came." Agnes shook her head.

"Where is father?" Agnes smiled at Helena.

"He left right before you came, he didn't want to be late…" Helena's face went white.

"He left without saying goodbye?" Agnes walked to where Helena was sitting.

"Lena dear…"

"He should have said goodbye…"

Her father was a much respected gentlemen, and always had somewhere to be.

About a year ago, the trips grew longer, and longer…after her mother….passed away.

Christine Daae a beautiful opera singer, who was involved in one of the largest scandals…the phantom of the opera...as most people called him, often visited Christine when she was young, it was said he was her teacher, and that he loved her.

Christine never talked about him much. Though on many occasions, Helena would walk into the attic of the mansion, where her mother spent most of her time, and would find her talking to someone. Within seconds the shadowy figure was gone.

Raoul de Chagny married Christine, not long after the events of the Opera Ghost took place. 1 year later, Christine was pregnant…with a girl, Helena.

"Father…" Helena looked up at Agnes, "Did you ever hear, from mother or father about the Opera ghost?" Agnes shook her head. "No, I am not going to delve into that ridiculous tale…"

"But then, where do all the stories come from?" Helena asked.

"Rumors, not stories…" Agnes, spooned some sugar into the dough she was making, for the cinnamon buns in the morning.

"It's the same thing." Helena rested her head on the palms of her hands. "I just wish I knew more."

"What would be the good of that?" Agnes handed her a moist cloth, "Clean off your face dear."

"I don't know, I just get the feeling…" Agnes set the dough aside with a sigh. "Helena, no more of this absurdity, now go and wake Geoff to feed the animals, before breakfast."

It was about 5 am, Helena walked out of the house, followed by Geoff.

The sky was so dark. "Mother…" Helena looked up at the sky, it reminded her, of the grey dress that her mother was buried in…this day was much like the day of her funeral…


	3. Chapter 3

Helena chewed her cinnamon bun with glee.

Still thinking on her earlier question….the opera ghost?

For as long as Helena could remember she always had a sinking feeling that there was something that she was not being told. That everyone else knew.

"Agnes." Helena raised her head.

"Yes?" Agnes said rubbing her hands on a napkin.

"Can you tell me what mother said…when she died?" Agnes looked at Helena with a hint of hesitation.

"Umm, what do you mean?" Helena looked down at the remains of her cinnamon bun, to refrain from meeting Agnes' eyes.

"I mean, what were her last words? I was outside of her bedroom, and she was talking to you and Papa…" Agnes coughed.

"Oh, yes. She was discussing your schooling, and such."

Helena was not pleased with this answer; she had heard something else that night.

Something was said that is now the first piece of her mystery.

"I remember her talking to someone else, after you and father left. And she told the person this. 'You must meet her; meet her on her 16th birthday at my grave.'" Agnes gave a slight scoff.

"Oh, yes. You were 14 years old, and proved that you had an imagination.

You are almost 16. You will be tomorrow. I don't want you going to your mother's grave tomorrow…okay?" Agnes looked at Helena with a serious look.

"Why?" Helena knew why.

"Because, this farfetched business is, well it's driving me crazy."

"I am sorry Agnes, but I visit mother's grave everyday, including my birthdays."

Agnes looked at her again, this time the look on her face was fierce. "NO!" and that is final. Helena was shocked.

"Oh, fine!" she said. "I will if you think it is that important…" Helena was almost crying.

Agnes said "Oh, don't fret, I shouldn't have yelled."

Agnes looked happy all of a sudden. Yes, but I do have a little present for you." Agnes handed her an envelope.

"Uh." Helena looked at the letter with surprise.

"No, no. It's not from me; it's from your mother." Agnes said. "She told me to give that to you on your sixteenth birthday. Chances are it's a nice lump sum, or perhaps a certificate." Helena smiled.

"Oh, I can't wait." Helena ripped it open. "Hmm, it's just a letter."

Helena read it, its contents read:

_My dear Helena, this is your mother. _

_I would like to share a few things with you, I have something to tell you, and feared that my health would not allow me to tell you by the time you were sixteen so I wanted to tell you in this letter. I love you Helena, and I am sorry that I had to leave so soon, if you are reading this chances are I did not survive. _

_I wanted to tell you that everything you were told by anyone about the opera ghost is false_. _You are a smart girl, and I suspected you would not take their answers to heart. _

_Raoul is a good man, and loved you like his own daughter, if he had known the truth I am sure that he would still love you. The truth is, he is not your father…We never talked much after those horrible sequences that took place. I am sorry that you have had to live in such a scandal. I am not getting to the point. _

_Okay the truth is that your father is not Raoul, he is in fact…the opera ghost. _

_I cannot give you any information other than his name, Erik. Now you understand why your name is Skire Helena backwards it is Erik's Helena. . . I am again sorry that you have had to carry this question in your mind for so long. You have my love always, _

_Please be at the grave-site, oh my god, my gravesite and meet your father on the night of your 16th birthday, it is of utmost importance. There you will meet a man named Ephraim, he is the son of one of your father's most trusted allies, he will help you in anyway possible. I would like you to know again, that I love you, and that is all I can say. I am too weak my darling daughter to write anymore…I wish I was there to answer more of your questions…_

_Love,_

_Mama_

_P.S your father loves his darling daughter and sang to you in your sleep. _


	4. Chapter 4

Helena cried in her bedroom for hours.

The door was bolted shut. The pounding that was caused by Agnes, had now died off.

All Helena could hear is her own mind, mimicking her mother's voice with every word of her letter.

Helena tried blinking to make it go away, but all she ever got out of it was more pain;

realizing that the letter wasn't going to change.

She didn't know why, but she wanted to hug her father. Not the ghost…but Raoul,

The father she now missed terribly. Suddenly didn't want him to go after she found out the truth.

Almost like the excitement of possibly having a scandal, made Helena forget how much she really loved her father, the father that raised her.

Helena cried harder now that she realized how she had disregarded the man who always held her when she was scared, took care of her when she was sick; before and after the death of her mother.

"My father…." Helena wanted to find her father, and immediately!

She hurriedly wrapped a red scarf around her neck, and a brown jacket. "Where are they?" She scrambled around her room, looking for her long stockings, and boots.

Helena unbolted the door, and began shoving things into her leather bag.

Agnes must have heard the clunk of the large brass bolt, because she could now be heard bustling down the hall.

Helena moved faster now. "Helena my dear!" Agnes came in, and practically slammed the door behind her.

"Stay away from me!" Helena stuck out her hand as if to block Agnes from pouncing.

"What?" Agnes gave a look of genuine confusion.

"Why would you do that? Why would you hide what I knew was true?" Helena screamed.

Agnes now looked more serious. "It was what your mother wanted. Now that I have seen your temperament there is no doubt in my mind what is in that letter!"

"But you knew all along!" Helena kicked her stool, so it went sliding to where Agnes stood.

"You are NOT going to blame me, for your foolish thinking. That man is an evil wizard! You will not go to see him." Helena looked at her in disbelief.

"Are you serious? I cannot believe you expect me to listen to you, after all these years you have hidden these things from me!" Agnes stepped towards her.

"DO NOT touch me!" Helena screeched. Agnes did end up jumping at Helena, trying to restrain her, but Helena was too quick. She jumped over her bed and landed on the floor right in front of the big oak door.

Helena had to use some force to get the door ajar, this time gave Agnes a chance to pick herself up from the floor.

She jumped at Helena once again, but only managed to get Helena's jacket stuck in the door. It ripped a little bit on the sleeve, but Helena kept moving.

Soon Agnes would be out of her room and would chase her until she caught her.

Though Agnes was a little bit round she had caught Helena many times before when she was younger, and she wouldn't take any chances.

Soon Helena was at the stables, she unlocked the other stalls of the horses, to give her a little time. (Agnes would have to chase the horses and put them back )

She jumped on the back of the jet black horse that was given to her by her father.

Helena now wondered if it was from her father or from…her _father. _

She raced off into the open field, a short cut to the heart of the city. The sun was now fully up, and danced across her chocolate brown curls.

"I'm coming father…."


	5. Chapter 5

The sun was beating down on Helena's back as she swung her leg to the ground. The muddy patch of land among the stone path sunk under Helena's feet. She comforted the horse, who seemed to be tired, by petting it's shoulder. "It's alright Tim-Tam, I'm leaving you with Smith, you'll be back home in no time at all." Tim-Tam bobbed his head as if in response.

"Skire?" Helena turned to see a man standing only ten feet away from her, holding a small Labrador puppy.

"Smith!" Helena smiled broadly, and grabbed onto Tim-Tam's reigns. "How nice it is to see you."

"What are you doing here?" Smith asked looking at Tim-Tam skeptically.

"Well, I know I'm not supposed to be here until next Tuesday, for the groceries and such, but I had to come…because…I need you to bring Tim-Tam back home for me." Smith looked at Helena as if she was crazy, but then his gaze softened as he saw the paper in her hands. Her mother's loopy writing clearly visible.

"Oh, Skire…what's going on?"

"Smith, I think you know, you were best of friends with my mother…before…" Smith looked down at his muddy boots.

"I know…" he didn't meet Helena's eyes. "I'm sorry…you have to go, I'll miss you coming over to play checkers with Abby." His grey eyebrows furrowed, and his thin lips frowned as he tried to seem as happy as possible.

"It's alright. I will visit you and Abby again, tell her thank you for all those times she made me cherry scones." Smith's eyes welled up with tears as the memories flooded his mind. He was much like a grandfather to Helena, and Abby was like her grandmother. The whole town knew Helena's family,

her father and her mother were well respected and well liked by much of the population.

But Smith was the only one Helena believed she could trust to not urge her to return home, or perhaps even let on that she had left town.

"I'm just going because…well I'm not sure…but I have to find some answers…" Helena looked down the street, hoping to find something that caught her attention, no luck.

"Tell Christine I said hello, I miss her very much." Helena smiled weakly at the mention of her mother's name.

"I will…" Helena let go of the reigns, and held out her hand, Smith grabbed and held it tightly. "I will miss you too."

Helena couldn't bare to be here anymore, it made her feel guilty, besides, she had a place to be. She had to meet up with someone very important. Someone that might very well lead her to all the answers, she has been longing for.

After Helena had said goodbye to Tim-Tam and Smith, she started heading down the hard road towards "Maplewood Lane." Christine had been buried there, in the lavish cemetery, underneath maple trees, and soft light, her daughter sat a few feet away and her husband and friends stood around her casket. Erik stood behind one of the massive trees, eyes soaked with sadness. "Christine…"


End file.
